Lying Is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have
by Heather Mythic Bitch Chandler
Summary: Years on the road have made this sibling duo uniquely suited to take down a criminal's biggest target in all the world: Cullen Pharmaceuticals. Get in, get the cash, get out, and get those stupid teenage feelings in check.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey hi hello this goddamn idea showed up and would not leave. So if you're here from CFG, I'M SO SORRY. I know, I know, but think of this - if I didn't get it out, I would take even longer to get an update out. If you're not here from CFG, welcome to HMBC Studios, please enjoy the picture.**

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight and I still own half of my soul.**

The air smelled of creosote after rain and the sun beat mercilessly down across the desert and inched toward the small shelter of shade she was hiding in. She watched as it illuminated her toes, then her ankles, then her calves. She was hoping that maybe she'd get a tan out of this, and hiked her stupidly expensive leggings up her legs as the sun began to set.

She couldn't remember how to tell time by the sun, but she had to have been sitting here for two hours at least, and she'd left around one in the afternoon. Shouldn't he be here by now? They had a contingency, and she was prepared to lay in this godforsaken cactus patch all day, but the longer she was here, the less likely it would be that they could leave without suspicion following them. The sun reached over her knees. She was beginning to think he wasn't going to show. Might as well get comfortable if she was going to be sleeping in this hellhole.

California was a fucking joke. She'd hated every minute she'd spent working this latest job, especially the ridiculous fucking nose she'd been wearing since she had walked off the plane. She ripped it off now, throwing it behind her into the boulders. The rubber made a strange noise as it hit the rock, and she wondered again how that idiot had never noticed it was fake. She was good at prosthetic work by now, but at some point, a man paying very special attention to a woman ought to notice her nose isn't real. Maybe he just thought she was sensitive about her appearance, or that she'd had work done. Maybe he was just being polite. She actually audibly snorted at that, before slapping her hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. No one was around, but she couldn't be too careful.

Her hand wandered over the places where the adhesive had attached the odious olfactory organ, scrubbing lightly with her nails to rid her skin of the annoying substance. Her own nose was probably red, a similar shade to her hair at the moment. She suspected that she bore a striking resemblance to Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, and it just made her scrub at her real nose more viciously. She had always hated it when she was forced to use fake features for these jobs, but she understood it was important to be unrecognizable. However, the material of the prosthetic was irritating, and every time she'd been allowed to remove the damn thing, she'd seen how rosy it made her real nose, giving her some flaming hair and face.

That was another dumb thing that California had brought about. Her red hair. She couldn't wait to get on the road and get this wig off. She'd take it off here but last time she'd gotten out of her disguise entirely before he showed up he'd given her shit for an hour about breaking the fantasy and how if she'd pulled that shit at Disneyland they'd have murdered her and he should do the same. He didn't mean it, of course, and he was far less likely to kill her than she was to kill him, but he got pretty annoying pretty quickly, so she decided against ridding herself of her equally odious hair. Besides that, her hair was always fucking gross after taking the wig off. It was too goddamn hot in California to be wearing a full lace-front and wig cap secured with enough Spirit Gum to permanently attach it to her scalp, because God forbid it ever came off unintentionally, during her… aerobics, or in a pool, or a hot tub, or even the fucking shower she shared with the idiot who never noticed her nose wasn't real.

She was allowed to keep her natural hair and hide with the wigs so that she could always hide in plain sight if needed. Sure, the glue left marks, but removing the signature bug shades, wig, and prosthetic nose or occasional mole took about ten seconds tops if she was willing to lose a layer of skin at her scalp, and she always was. An anonymous look was necessary in this line of work, and she preferred that her own actual look be anonymous, so it all worked out. Her partner, on the other hand, used a fucking moustache and somehow never once was spotted. He was huge, and it made zero sense that he had never been made, but he hadn't. She suspected he was actually just really good at hiding. The thought of him tucking down under a table or behind a curtain made her smile.

Annoying? Yes. Goofball? Yes. Ready to die for him? Always.

Just as she was getting ready to give up on him entirely, the sun reaching up to her hips, she spotted a speck on the horizon, seemingly getting larger as it headed toward her. She knew it was him well before he arrived, watching as the dust trailed behind the truck he was driving.

The sun was up to her elbows now, and she was quickly becoming uncomfortable from the heat, but she couldn't move, couldn't stand; not until he arrived, whole and unharmed, with the code word.

The truck pulled to a stop about fifty feet away from her secluded hiding spot, and she watched as he hopped out, glanced around, and spotted her leg sticking out ever so slightly from the cactus patch she was behind. She'd left it out purposefully, so only he'd notice. Anyone else would have to know she was there to see it.

He popped his sunglasses on his head.

"Way!" he shouted, just loudly enough for her to hear.

She grinned. "No way!"

He squinted to see her face through the cacti. "Did you take off your fucking nose?" he asked.

She slapped her hand over her face, obscuring her rosy nose. "No."

He shook his head and shoved his shades up onto his head, pushing his curly hair back from his face. "Come on, Pinocchio, let's get the hell out of here. I wanna be in Arizona by the time _The Good Place_ comes on."

"Because she's-"

"An Arizona trash bag, yes, now let's go." He started to head back to the truck, while she scrambled up and dusted the desert off her legs.

"You have my shit in the truck, right?" she asked.

He threw his hands up, not bothering to turn back to her. "What is this? Amateur hour? Yeah, your shit's in the truck."

"Remember the time you left my jeans back at home?"

"One time! One time that happened!"

"And I wore Danica James' outfit all the way to Arizona from Pittsburgh. She was way too into tulle for a day and a half of driving."

She jumped up into the backseat of the truck and immediately began undressing. The designer shit she always had to wear with her marks was uncomfortable as fuck. He'd packed her favorite jeans, a pair of Vans high tops, and an old men's Pretenders t-shirt. Another bag had a hairbrush, dry shampoo, and hair ties along with a package of makeup remover wipes.

"God bless you," she said. "Emmett McCarty is definitely in contention for the Good Place for this." She performed the awkward shuffle into her clothes as he laughed and began driving out of the desert. After a cloud of dry shampoo, six makeup wipes, her real hair brushed into a high ponytail, and her shirt secured in a knot at the waist with another hair tie, she climbed over the console and plopped into the passenger seat.

"Hello, Bella," Emmett said, grinning over at her. "Nice to see you again."

"Hey, Emmett," she said, before reaching back to hide her old hair and clothes in the picnic basket in the back, along with the toiletries. She could see the police blockade up ahead, and she readjusted her ponytail and got into character.

Emmett pulled up to the blockade, and an officer stepped up to the window. Emmett rolled it down, nonplussed. He leaned out of the car and grinned.

"Afternoon, Officer," he said. Bella held in a giggle. He was way too good at this.

The officer just stared at Emmett for a solid thirty seconds before he removed his sunglasses and spoke. "Sir, when did you arrive at Joshua Tree National Park?"

"About three hours ago," Emmett said. "The little lady and I were on a picnic." He gestured to the basket in the backseat.

"Did you see this woman while in the park? She's missing." He held up a photo of Ginny Delworth and James Trace, her red hair flowing in the wind and sunglasses perched on her downturned nose. James was steering the speedboat as she took the photo, both of them grinning cockily at the camera.

Bella schooled her face into one of shock, but inside, she was proud. She made sure that all of their photos were out in the sun, meaning that she could keep her sunglasses on. James didn't have a more distinct picture of her, which served him right for being so terrible at sex. Of course, they'd eventually find Ginny's real information, her Social Security number, her school transcripts, the photos of her. These were hard for Bella to fabricate, but not impossible. It helped that she started with real information, making it easy to change the appearance in photos and the grades on the transcripts. Young girls died every day, and Bella's contacts got her the names of the ones who wouldn't be looked for. She'd be looked for now, but Virginia Delworth was actually dead, so there was no danger here. Maybe James would find the real Ginny. Didn't matter to Bella. She'd be someone else by then.

"No sir, we drove right out to one of the ridges and set up, then came right back. That's awful though. What's her name? Maybe we can ask around in town?" Emmett was laying it on a bit thick, but Bella knew the cop wasn't suspicious. Emmett had always had a way with law enforcement.

The officer smiled and shook his head. "That's alright son. You two just give us a call if you see her. Have a nice day." He handed Emmett a business card and waved them on, and Bella waved back to him, her face perfectly concerned for poor Ginny Delworth.

"Thanks Officer," Emmett said, before he leaned back into the truck, covertly shot Bella a wink, and drove away from the barricade, toward the open stretch of highway to the East, away from Bella's West Coast nightmare.

Bella turned the radio up, leaning her head out of the window to catch the breeze created by Emmett's speeding.

"Hey, Lassie, get back in here! Time for debrief." Emmett's hand closed around the back of her shirt, tugging her back down to her seat. She cranked the AC and rolled up their windows. One she was comfortably cool in the truck's cabin, she sighed.

Tightening her ponytail, she started rattling off details. "Ginny actually disappeared seven months ago, at which point I got to work."

"Do we know what happened to her?"

"Emmett, you know we don't. This debriefing shit is ridiculous, you were fucking there."

Emmett spared her a quick sardonic look. "Amuse me, please. It makes me feel a bit more legit."

"Did you feel legit when we were marking Laurent Farcel?" Bella cocked an eyebrow.

Emmett shrugged. "He wasn't the worst I've had. And I felt legitimately exhausted."

Bella burst out laughing. Sex was part of the deal. A man didn't give you access to his bank account because you were nice. He gave it to you because the chase had been good, you were exactly what he wanted, and you were the best lay he'd ever had once he caught you. All it took at that point was some bat-shit idea that he was more than happy to help you with, and small amounts withdrawn over time. And when Bella and Emmett disappeared, most of them never even thought of the money, except to say "Oh, she was so close to opening that little bakery she always dreamed of!"

They were so heartbroken over losing the love of their life that they never ever bothered to check that their money had actually been spent on the things they'd claimed it was spent on.

If they did the job right, the case stayed with local cops and away from anyone with the real chops to figure out Emmett and Bella's game. As long as the locals were on the job, Bella's intel and fake credentials were picture perfect, and she (or Emmett) ended up as just another missing persons' cold case. She even saw herself on those conspiracy shows sometimes. She'd been doing this long enough that she'd run through quite a few identities. At twenty-six she'd been at least eight people. Some cons took longer than others.

"No one knows what happened to her. Kate got me the intel and I did the rest. You did the research on James's type. Once we had it, I altered all of Ginny's photos and grades, giving her a few more credentials to make her legit."

"Cause a crackhead from Queens isn't exactly Mr. Trace's type."

"No." Bella's hand twitched. She should smack him for that comment, but he was driving, and she didn't want him to drive them into a ditch. "We met at James's favorite bar, and he immediately began the hunt. He literally called it that, by the way." She took a deep breath, resisting the urge to go back and shoot that bastard.

"Once we were secure, I told him about the gun range I wanted to start up. As a card-carrying member of the NRA, James was ecstatic. He gave me account access and helped me oversee a ton of building crap, but I insisting of dealing with the numbers myself, by virtue of Ginny having an Accounting degree from Harvard. So, while he did spend a ton on a top-of-the-line gun range, he also spent a ton on us. We got half a mil."

"Extraction?"

"The one you planned?!"

"Amuse me, Bells." Emmett waved his hand in a go-on gesture.

"Fine. I suggested camping and rock climbing in Joshua Tree." She remembered his excitement at the prospect of sharing a tent and smiled because he'd never get the satisfaction. They'd arrived this morning, and it was late afternoon. Grinning, she continued her mandatory dog and pony show. "When he got tired after a long climb, I told him I was going on another hike, and that I'd meet him back at camp in a few hours. I climbed the ridge in my fuckin Lulu Lemon, which is not at all comfortable, despite the advertising, dropped my burner down between the rocks, and then moved on to the rendezvous."

"Where I picked you up right before he called the cops." Emmett extended his fist toward Bella, and she bumped his knuckles.

"Job done."

"Let's go home," Emmett said, before proceeding to hit the gas so hard that Bella shrieked.

"Jesus Christ! Are you trying to get us arrested?" Bella clung to the "oh shit" bar with both hands. Emmett laughed and levelled off the speed at ten miles over the limit. "How long do we get to be home this time?"

Emmett went silent. Too silent. Bella groaned.

"How soon?" she asked.

"Bella, you have to understand-"

She didn't let him finish. "How. Soon?"

"Two weeks." He said on an exhale, defeated.

Bella slumped into her seat, kicking her feet up onto the truck's dashboard. "Bella, come on," Emmet said, reaching over and poking her in the side. Bella just squirmed a bit at the sensation of being tickled, but stayed silent. "Bella, this is it. This is the last one. Once we finish this, we never have to go out again." He smiled. "We can retire to Arizona and live the rest of our lives out on the river, drinking craft IPAs and floating along with the current."

Bella huffed. He was hauling out the big guns. Charlie's dream life, laid out for them to enjoy. "Two weeks, Em? What is this guy? Eighty-five with a bad heart?!"

"Actually, he just got engaged." He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous gesture he'd picked up from their father. Not Emmett's biological father, but the one he'd grown up with. From the father they shared: Charlie.

She ignored her reaction to anything Charlie related. "_What?!_" She was shrieking in an incredibly unattractive manner, but she couldn't help it. Two weeks at home after five months away, and she was bound to be stressed and grumpy.

Emmett sighed. "This is not the first time we've done this, Bells. The dude in Tampa was fuckin _married_. Plus, you can tell the dude's unhappy. This chick is nuts."

"How nuts?"

"Fuckin Planters Baby nuts. They got engaged and she immediately went out and started humping the leg of every media person in the damn nation. Dude is very private, always has been, so this bitch is probably grinding his gears, and probably several other guys while she's at it. Seems the type." Emmett made the crazy sign with his eyebrows up toward his hairline.

Bella listened with growing dread. There was no fucking way he meant…

"Edward Cullen isn't too bad to look at either, Bells."

_Fuck_.

"There is no fucking way we're going to be able to fucking con the _Cullens_. The very idea is fucking ridiculous. They probably fucking background check every fucking person they fucking talk to." Bella was gesturing wildly with her hands.

Emmett burst out laughing. "Calm down. You're doing that thing you do when you're upset where every other word is 'fuck'."

Bella took a deep breath in. "Emmett, this is impossible."

Emmett shook his head. "This is the perfect time to go for it. This one and done. I know you can figure out a way to get us in with them." He gave her the goddamned puppy-dog eyes and then said the one thing that always made Bella say yes. "You're so smart."

Bella knew she was smart. Bella was probably the smartest person she knew, and that included all those douchebags they'd robbed blind. She was pretty humble about it too, in her own opinion, at least to other people. She had three degrees in total: a Bachelor's in Biology from Northwestern, a Bachelor's in Literature from Yale, and a Master's in Computer Science from Duke. Before Charlie was in the accident, she'd already been accepted at Northwestern, and after he'd passed, when she and Emmett had come up with their first con, she used her old computer club skills (and her amateur, purely experimental, hacking) to list herself as a distance education student, allowing her to take her classes from anywhere. Once she'd realized this was possible, she got to work on any field she'd enjoyed, gathering degrees while her professors never even saw her face.

Then, when she honed her computer skills, and became a professional, practical hacker, the schools never stood a chance. She was able to fabricate degrees, records, and whatever else she wanted from them for her fake identities. Elite schools were shockingly easy to get access to.

Schools: not very secure.

_Cullen Pharmaceuticals_: the most secure goddamn place she could think of.

It was no secret that the Cullens were insanely wealthy. Almost every drug in the entirety of the nation was produced, researched, or tested there, and the drug business was almost as lucrative as it was sleazy. Price racketeering sick people made Bella's stomach turn, and she was a fucking honeypot, for Christ sakes. The thought of some poor lady like Emmett's mom being unable to pay for her cancer meds because some assholes in a penthouse want to charge her the sum of her life savings for it made her blood boil. Of course, their security would be tight, and access of all kinds restricted. It would be damn near impossible to get in.

Then again, "damn near" wasn't "entirely", and Bella sure did love a challenge.

"What's your idea?" she asked, after the silence became unbearable.

Emmett just grinned. "Same as always, Sis. Get in, get paid, get out."

"You gonna find out what kind of girl he actually likes?" Bella inspected her nail beds as she spoke, trying to hide her excitement. Emmett was right, after all. Edward Cullen wasn't disappointing to look at in the slightest. She hoped he stacked up, performance-wise.

"Yeah. I have an idea, but I need you to get into the paps' wire."

Bella nodded. "Easy enough. Their intel is almost common knowledge."

"Then I have a plan to get me in. Then you." He followed a sign directing them farther East, and Bella smiled at the prospect of being home. She knew they were at least a few hours out, but she could practically feel the AC blasting in her room and smell her candles and plants. She hoped Mr. Black had taken good care of them.

"We need to know what kind of chick he likes first. Start researching as soon as we get home?" Bella preferred to be in disguise from the beginning.

Emmett went that ridiculous level of silence again and Bella got a bad feeling deep in her gut. "Well…" he said, trailing off into that same uncomfortable silence.

"What?" Bella's voice was deadpan, unamused. Whatever he was planning, she already knew she would hate it.

Emmett sighed deeply. "Fine. I've been thinking, and… well, I think their security's gonna be too tight to get in as… well… other… people."

"Yeah, and?" Bella shrugged. "Let's not go then."

"No, I just mean… let's go in… as _not_ other people."

There was silence in the truck.

Then-

"What in the _fuck_ are you_ talking_ about?!"

"Let's go in as ourselves?" Emmett's voice picked up in speed and pitch.

Bella was shocked into silence. There was absolutely zero chance he was suggesting she forfeit her actual identity, the one she'd worked the hardest on and had been building up her entire life, just to pull off a con.

"You okay?"

She said nothing. She was still reeling. He wanted her to live out her days as someone else and let Bella Swan disappear into the night. After she'd done all that damn schooling and used all the disguises to protect herself.

"Bella?"

Nothing. She was supposed to just let herself die? She'd rather do this stupid job for ten more years than do that. Hell, she'd rather try and find a real job, and she absolutely could with her credentials. But she wouldn't be able to take Emmett, and she needed him. It's not like he was going to give up this life. He'd worked too hard at it for too long. Kind of like how she'd built up her actual identity.

"Sister dearest?"

Nothing. Nothing for five entire minutes. Just the radio and the air conditioning and the endless road ahead. And Bella, breathing evenly and thinking long and hard about exactly what her stepbrother was asking of her. And finally, she knew exactly what she wanted to ask of _him_.

"Are you _fucking insane?!_"

Her outburst happened so loudly and suddenly that Emmett accidentally swerved. Not enough to draw attention, but enough for Bella to jolt in her seat.

"Jesus Christ!" he shouted, righting the truck and taking great gulps of air. "Don't do that!"

Bella didn't bother addressing his shock. "You want me to give up my name, _Charlie's name_, so that we can rob an un-rob-able family that are probably heavily involved in tax fraud and organized crime anyway?" Oh yeah, she'd heard the same rumors as everyone else. Rich people weren't rich because they were nice and clean. Bella and Emmett, for example, were pretty damn close to bumping up a tax bracket themselves, and they were certified con artists. (No really, one year for her birthday Emmett had business cards made for them. He'd designed and printed them himself with a fancy cardstock printer.)

"Bells, you're always gonna be Bella Swan. Whatever your future paperwork says doesn't change that." Emmett glanced over at her with a sad smile.

She slumped. "Emmett, when we're done with this… I want to be normal. I want to find a guy I actually love, and settle down, and have a family someday. And when I do that, I want to be me. I want to tell my kids stories about their grandfather."

Emmett heaved a deep sigh. "You still can Bells. We only need to change last names. There are a billion Isabellas and Emmetts in the world. And a billion Charlies. We can do this for several more years, or we can do this one and get you started on that family." He cocked his head to the side. "Personally I'd want to be an uncle sooner rather than later."

"Emmett, I-"

"Just think about it Bells, okay? Think about how fucking easy this will be. Rich people are suckers, and these people are richer than Midas. And you are way better looking than that bimbo he's gonna marry. Really, you're saving him from a life of unhappiness. We get in, we get the money, we get out. They'll cover it up so no one else gets any funny ideas, he'll be ruined, and they won't even try to find us, because then it would get out that the heir to their empire got conned by an Arizona trash-bag and his sister." He was gesturing wildly with the hand that wasn't on the wheel, and Bella recognized that look in his eye. Emmett had that manic planning look, which meant he had thought and overthought about this for way too long, and he wouldn't stop until they at least _tried_ to pull it off.

But Bella could handle that. They could _try_. When they inevitably failed, she'd reign Emmett in and they'd go back to Arizona to plan something different. If it took them a few more years to retire that was fine. It was way better than getting arrested, at any rate, which is what would happen to them if they fucked with the Cullens. She'd play along with whatever asinine crazy plans Emmett wanted her to, and when it all fell apart and Edward Cullen decided he wanted his pumped-up plastic fiancé and not her, they'd go home and she'd console Emmett's bruised ego.

It was this absolute confidence in their upcoming demise that bid her to say:

"Alright Emmett, let's do it."

Emmett's grin grew as wide as his entire face and he let out a triumphant whooping noise, punching the roof of the car excitedly. "Knew you'd see it my way, Bellsy. Cause you're _Ballsy_ Bellsy." He smacked her arm jovially, his mood infinitely more cheerful than anyone Bella had ever seen. Bella shook her head, suppressing a giggle at his antics, which now included shaking his ass all over the seat in a simulated victory dance.

She was going to regret this so much.

**A/N: Do you want me to shut up and finish CFG? Let me know! Do you want more? Let me know! Are you having trouble remembering that this is supposed to be fun and you should suspend your disbelief in the name of fiction? Let me... Wait. That one's me. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Wow, who would have thought quarantine was my writing kryptonite? I couldn't do anything for months, including write. I'm back on the horse now, though, so have an update! I'm sorry that it isn't CFG, I promise I'll get to it!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. I do own this weird A/U where everyone except like three people are terrible. (Wait, that's just the actual series, oops, nevermind!)**

*

The sound of the air-conditioning greeted her as she walked into her and Emmett's apartment. The pale blue walls were bathed in sunlight, the succulents scattered green against them like trees against the sky. It smelled like jasmine, and she could hear the sound of the wind chimes on the balcony.

Home.

For the last eight years, at least. Since Charlie had died and they'd been working different cons, the house they'd shared with their father seemed too big and too high maintenance to keep. Not to mention, Charlie had always hated it. He'd wanted a cozy house on the river, not the mid-city split-level that was identical to the rest of the block. If he'd taught Emmett and Bella anything, it was a healthy skepticism for unnecessary nostalgia. That house wasn't Charlie.

Emmett and Bella were Charlie. They had each other, and now they had this tiny apartment.

"Hello?" came a rich, deep voice from the vicinity of her bedroom.

And they had their landlord, a kind man named Billy Black.

"We're home!" Bella called, dumping the picnic basket onto the couch. Emmett trailed in behind her, heading straight for the fridge. Since Bella had been running the job, Emmett was able to come home once a week, which meant the fridge was fully stocked with beer and what she could only assume was a lot of cheese. It had been a lot of cheese last time she was home, too. She didn't know why. They always got take-out; it wasn't like they ate tons of cheese.

Billy rolled into the living room, the watering can on his lap. "Bella," he said, beaming at her, lines appearing at the corners of his eyes. Bella rushed over to him, bending down to give him a hug. "Good to have you home, dear."

Bella pulled back, smiling. "Hey. How're my babies?"

"Green and lush," he said, chuckling.

Bella patted his arm. "You take such good care of me," she said, as Emmett approached them both, beers in hand.

"Do me a favor in return?" Billy asked, accepting the proffered beverage from Emmett.

Bella grabbed her own beer, rolling her eyes. "Is it the same favor as all the other favors?"

Billy grinned. "Maybe."

Bella let out a disbelieving laugh. Billy had been trying to set her up with his son for about three years now. She'd seen photos. He was absolutely adorable, and she was very confident that he was hiding a six-pack under his shirts. Unfortunately, he went to school in the Pacific Northwest, at the University of Washington. Even more unfortunately, Bella kept leaving every few months to seduce men out of their money, and she wasn't exactly comfortable dating someone while she did it.

It was currently mid-April, which meant Jacob was probably home for spring break. He was in his last semester at UW before getting his engineering degree. Bella knew all of this because it was all Billy talked about. He was obsessed with his kid's success. Which was so gosh-darn cute that Bella didn't mind listening to him rattle off Jacob's GPA and test scores. However, Jacob being home meant Billy would be talking about something else entirely. Getting Bella to "show him around" the town he grew up in. It wasn't like he couldn't find the mall.

"Now, Billy," Bella said, stepping behind him and pushing his wheelchair toward the couch, "I'm not about to take up any of your son's precious time with you."

Billy threw his hands up before craning his neck to shoot Bella a look. "What kid wants to hang out with me when hanging out with you is an option?"

Bella flopped down onto the couch beside Emmett, twisting the cap off her beer and taking a swig before responding. She leveled an icy glare at Billy. "Show me the pictures again."

Billy took his wallet out of the pocket of his shirt, flipping it open to show a photo of his son, beaming at the camera and holding up a giant trout. He had long, glossy black hair, deep brown skin, a square jaw, and the aforementioned impressive chest and abdominal area. She presumed this from the way the shirt he was wearing in the photo clung to him, and the thick cords of muscle on his arms. In short, he was delicious. But absolutely off-limits until she and Emmett stopped working. It was for that exact reason that Bella tried to be away whenever he was home. There were times when she knew he was there, in the building with her, that she hunkered down in the apartment, scared of having a moment of weakness and actually going out with Billy's son. The amount of take-out she ate over Christmas was astronomical.

"See that shirt he's wearing, Billy?" Bella asked.

Billy flipped the wallet toward himself, squinting at the image. "Yeah."

"Know what that's made of?"

Billy shrugged. "Cotton?"

Bella clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "Boyfriend material." Emmett snorted into his beer, before turning his attention fully to the television. "I, however, am not girlfriend material. I travel all the time, I can't even have my phone for most of it!" She took Billy's hand, bringing the photo back toward her. "If your son is half as great as you are, he deserves better than that." She grinned. "Beside that, you're not even sure he would like me."

Billy chuckled. "Please, kid, you think I'm not working his angle, too?" He took a swig of his own beer. "He's seen your picture plenty," he said, flipping the wallet window to show her a photo of her and Emmett, sitting at their kitchen bar. "Jacob just respects a woman's right to choose. He's not movin' in on you until you want him to." He slugged back the rest of his drink, passing the bottle to Bella, who set it on the coffee table. "Speaking of moving, I should get. Kid's probably attempted to cook something and God knows I need the kitchen more than he does." He tucked the wallet back into his pocket. "Thanks for the beer, Emmett."

"Any time, Billy," Emmett said, his eyes on the screen as tall people passed the orange ball. Bella wasn't exactly interested in sports, but she watched with Emmett, to make him happy.

"You think about the offer, kid," Billy said, holding Bella's gaze as he backed toward the door. She jumped up to open it for him. "I mean it."

"Oh Billy," she said, holding the door open with one hand and clutching her chest dramatically with the other, "I'll be thinking about it plenty."

He barked out a laugh as he wheeled out the door, heading for the elevator. She watched him go, grateful to live in a building run by the kindest man on the planet.

What would happen if they pulled off the Cullen Pharmaceuticals job? Bella Swan would be gone, and so would Billy, and the possibility of Jacob, and this building. Was she willing to sacrifice so much? People knew them here. Not a lot of them, but enough. Would they even be able to retire to the lake?

She shook herself out of it and slammed the door. They weren't going to pull off shit. She knew it. No need to worry herself over nothing.

She turned back to the couch, fully intent on stealing the remote and switching to _Parks and Recreation. _

*

Bella banned Emmett from talking about work for the entire evening. In fact, she instilled a three-day ban. If they had to set out for New York in two weeks, she wanted to relax for at least that long. They were in the middle of several beers and another episode of_ The Good Place_ when someone knocked at the door, interrupting a particularly hilarious Chidi meltdown. Bella shot Emmett a glance, eyebrows raised. Emmett shrugged.

She got up, setting her bottle on the coffee table, opting to hop over the top of the couch instead of going around, which she knew Emmett hated. As if cued, he yelled, "Christ, Bells, knock it off!"

She stuck the landing (just barely), blew a raspberry at Em, and ambled for the door, being extra careful with her slippers on the hardwood. The little ducks were cute, but they were also a tripping hazard, and Bella was prone to succumb to their quacking power. She figured the knocking was probably old Miss Cope next door, asking for help with her Wi-Fi. She was already prepared for the onslaught of annoying questions and comments about the lack of length on her shorts. Miss Cope was nice enough, but God above she could be a lot.

She threw the door open, already speaking. "Hey Miss Cope, what's-"

It was decidedly _not_ Miss Cope at their door.

She was blinded by a wide, white grin. "Uh," he said, "hi."

Bella found herself smiling back before she could stop herself. "Hi."

Jacob Black was exactly as good-looking as his photos. Actually, scratch that. He was better looking, which Bella thought was insane. He was tall and muscled, his shirt stretched tight across his broad shoulders. His hair was braided back, which weirdly made Bella self-conscious of her own hair, which was in a sloppy approximation of a bun. His hands were fidgeting, and he ducked his head down. She couldn't be sure but she thought he was staring at her legs.

But that wasn't all. Yes, he was devastatingly hot, but the way he stood, confident, but casual, and his shy smile that made his eyes nearly sparkle… those were the things that made Bella clutch the door handle in a vise.

"I'm Jake."

"I'm aware."

His head shot up, and she beamed at him. He shook his head just slightly, seemingly amused. Wow, his eyes were dark. "My dad sent me over?" It was worded like a question, but Bella couldn't really see why.

Her eyebrows shot up. "Did he need anything? Is he okay?" She was suddenly very worried that he'd come up here for help with Billy and she'd been busy watching the way his arms shifted as his hands kept moving.

Those hands shot out, waving off her concerns. "No, nothing like that, uh…" he rubbed the back of his neck, seeming nervous. "He got these passes to the Mini-Putt place from the old guy in 6F, but he can't really play." He shrugged. "He said I should ask you."

Bella's eyes narrowed, but her smile was still fixed in place. "I thought he said you respected my right to choose?"

Jacob smiled. "Well, do you _choose_ to come play mini golf with me tomorrow night? At six?"

Bella pressed her tongue into her cheek. Goddamn Billy Black. He knew she wouldn't have the guts to look him in the eye and say no, because he knew she didn't _want_ to say no. This was exactly that moment of weakness she'd been worried about. This was the reason she wouldn't grocery shop while Jacob was home. This one moment face-to-face was all it took to crack her resolve. It wasn't like she had to be his girlfriend, right? She could have a date night. She was an adult, she was allowed.

Bella heaved a deep sigh. "Did your father tell you that I'm a horrible prospect who travels all over for her job and is completely out of touch for extended periods of time?"

"Did he tell you that I'm an engineering student working on his thesis project and prepping for graduation?" He leaned against the doorframe, not bothering to hide his gaze as it traveled down her bare legs and back up to her face. For some inexplicable reason, she didn't feel skeeved out by this like she normally would. She suspected it was that fucking smile. "Basically the same thing."

Bella nodded. "Alright." She did what she did best then, and made a snap decision. "Pick me up at six, you said?"

Jacob smiled. "Yeah." He shoved off from the doorframe, giving her a small wave. "Goodnight, Bella."

Bella bit her lip to keep the manic grin off her face. "Goodnight Jacob."

She watched him for a while as he walked away, admiring the view, before shutting the door and turning back to Emmett, whose face was propped up on his hands, elbows on the back of the couch, staring innocently at her. "Don't start," she said, making her way back to the couch. "One night of mini golf won't be the end of the world." She actually wasn't entirely convinced of that herself, but she knew better than to let Emmett see her sweat.

Emmett scoffed. "_I_ know it won't. I'm shocked that _you_ know it won't."

She jumped over the back of the couch, landing hard next to him. "Shut up."

Emmett just laughed, turning to resume their binge-watching.

*

Bella was in an unusual predicament.

What does a girl wear when she's going on an actual date and not one that she carefully crafted a persona for?

Sure, she knew how Danica James would dress. She knew how Jessica Stanley would dress. Lauren Mallory, Breanna Tanner, Virginia Delworth, these were all women with a sense of severe style and the budget to prove it. If these women were going on a date with Jacob Black, they'd have an outfit prepared. Of course, none of those women _would_ go on a date with Jacob Black, because the date was at a Mini-Putt course. They were way too stuck-up for that. She tried to imagine a backswing in one of Lauren's tight-as-fuck skirts and snorted aloud.

She'd managed to figure out hair, thanks to that stupid bun she'd had during their first meeting. She wanted him to see it at its best, since he'd already seen the worst. It was down and shaken out, loose curls at the ends, and she'd done minimal makeup, because they were going putting, not to the opera. She hadn't been on a date since she and Emmett had started their cons, but she knew enough to know that she didn't want to be one of those girls all dolled up to take a walk. There was nothing wrong with those girls, she just knew that if she tried it she'd want to touch her face and ruin everything she'd done. Then what would the point have been?

Her options were laid out uselessly on the bed, lacking in any appeal. Jeans and shirts and blouses and shorts all scattered about with no hope laying among them. She huffed in frustration and turned back to the small closet, determined to dig out an acceptable outfit. She fumbled through her things, shoving aside hung up outfits from the past, her hands finally catching on something with promise. The lace caught on one of her nails, at any rate. She pulled the offending garment out of her closet, shaking it out to reveal a sunflower-yellow sundress with lace overlay on the skirt. It was cut close to the waist with flowing little sleeves.

Now _this_ was an option. Paired with a cardigan to protect her from the night's chill and a pair of sneakers, it was the perfect cute/casual look for her date. A fashionista she was not, but no one could say Bella Swan didn't know what looked good on her. She snatched a navy cardigan from the piles on her bed and knelt to retrieve her high-tops from under it.

She'd just thrown the cardigan over the dress and reached for her bag when someone knocked on the door. Well, not someone. Her _date._

She hustled out of her room to get the door before Emmett could, barely beating him to it. Bella threw the door open, shooting Em a quick glare, before facing the man in her doorway.

He was in a solid flannel button-up, sleeves rolled to the elbows, and jeans. So very simple, and yet, so utterly wonderful. Looking at him standing there, hair down just like hers, smiling that wide grin and eyeing her outfit with what she could only describe as appreciation, she almost felt normal. Like she was just a girl going out on a date with a cute boy, hoping against hope that he might hold her hand.

"Hi," she said, smiling shyly at him, adjusting her bag on her shoulder.

His grin got impossibly wider. "Hey," he said. He looked over her shoulder, where Emmett was no doubt staring unabashedly. She felt her cheeks heat a bit at the thought. "Hi, I'm Jacob Black, Billy's son. You must be Emmett."

Bella shifted out of the way as his hand outstretched toward Emmett, who clasped it brusquely with his own. "Nice to meet you," Emmett said. "Take good care of my sister, okay?"

"Will do," Jacob responded, shaking Emmett's hand with enthusiasm.

Bella's eyes rolled involuntarily. "Alright, now that the masculine posturing is out of the way…" She eyed the unnaturally tight grip they had on each other's hands. Sure, the conversation was polite, but the body language was tense and annoying. Secretly, Bella enjoyed it. It made the whole thing more real. More normal. "Ready to go?" she asked Jacob.

"Hey," he said, retracting his hand from Emmett's, "that's my line."

"Then use it," Bella said, "and let's get out of here."

Jacob offered his arm, and Bella gladly linked her own with his.

"Not too late, Bells!"

Bella was already out the door, leading big, brawny Jacob as far away from Emmett as she could. "Okay, Grandpa!" she called back, her eyes rolling once again. Charlie had always hated that habit, but she couldn't help it if people's idiocy had a direct effect on her eyes. She'd always been such an obedient child, a caretaker to them all, not out of necessity, but compassion. Her one indulgence at home was sarcasm, and that was mostly because Eleanor had loved it so much. Even in the act of her defiance she was hoping to make her stepmother laugh. She'd suffered so much… Eleanor had deserved the giggles she'd gotten when Bella rolled her eyes or made a droll comment.

"Whoa, slow down, Speed Racer," Jacob said, doing this weird little half-skip motion to keep pace with her. "He's not chasing us."

Bella pushed her thoughts of Eleanor away and slowed her steps, turning and grinning at him. "Sorry," she said. "He forgets sometimes that we aren't kids anymore." She shrugged, letting her other hand settle on her first, trapping Jacob's arm between them. "Not to mention, I don't do this very often, as a rule." Not for real, anyway. "So, he's just feeling extra protective." She let him push the button for the elevator, as her hands were much more happily occupied tethering herself to him.

"Well," he said, and good_ God,_ were his eyes always so warm or was she supposed to feel special or something, "I'm glad to be an exception to your rule." The doors opened and they headed into the dinged-up elevator.

"Yeah, well," she replied sardonically, "don't feel too great; jury's still out."

He glanced down at her hands, brows raised. "I mean… I'm liking my odds."

Bella snorted and released his bicep to push the button for the ground floor. "Liking your arms and liking you are two completely different things."

Jacob scoffed. "They're attached to me, aren't they?"

"Oh my God, how_ old_ are you?"

"Twenty-four, but age is just a number, Bella," he had the audacity to wink at her, and she felt her cheeks warm.

She rolled her eyes through the flush. "Well, I'm twenty-six, so take my word for it: that reasoning was lame."

The doors opened and they strolled through the lobby toward the exit to the parking lot. "What's your degree even in, again?" Jacob asked her, taking hold of her elbow to guide her toward his car.

Bella grinned. "Computer science."

They reached his car, an older Volkswagen, and he unlocked her door as he spoke. "Well, considering mine allows me to build the machines you code for, that puts us on even footing."

Bella laughed, sliding into her seat as he opened the door for her. She reached over and unlocked his door, because she had seen_ A Bronx Tale_ and took the door test incredibly seriously, and once he was seated she gave her rebuttal. "We are not the same age suddenly just because you're an engineering major."

"Can you change a tire?" he asked.

Bella scoffed. "Isn't that what Triple A is for?"

"Well, well, looks like my useful knowledge base is larger too," he tutted at her, starting up the car and driving toward the sunset. "Now I'm older than you."

Bella gasped. "Can you even cook, young man?"

"I'll have you know I make a mean mac 'n' cheese," he said, turning to shoot her a quick smile before returning his eyes to the road.

Bella's eyebrows raised. "Does it come in a box?"

"I'm going to plead the fifth on that one."

"And we're back on even ground," she said.

They argued different skills over the drive, from ability to do laundry to college grade point average to favorite physical hobbies. She was incredibly depressed to learn that he liked to_ rock climb_, of all things. She'd been hoping to edge out a few years on him for her climbing expertise but no, he'd climbed almost as much as she had. As they pulled into the parking lot at the Mini-Putt, they agreed that Jacob was actually thirty-two, while Bella was only thirty-one.

"Alright," Bella said, pulling her cardigan tighter across her chest and hiking her bag onto her shoulder, "if you're older, what's the best piece of advice you've got for me?"

Jacob locked the car and met her on the passenger side. "Listen to your landlord when it comes to men."

Bella burst out laughing. "That's _horrible_ advice!" She gestured to the miniscule space between them, because he'd stood very close, which she was trying very hard not to acknowledge. "_This _was an incredibly lucky coincidence. Usually landlords are creeps with terrible taste who don't have cute sons to take you mini-golfing."

"So, you think I'm cute, then?" he asked, smiling and taking her hand.

Bella shook her head. "You're incorrigible."

He led her by the hand toward the entrance. "And cute," he added, beaming.

*

"Okay, are you hustling me?!" Jacob's voice was indignant, because Bella was beating him by at least ten strokes and it was only the eighth hole.

Bella laughed. "I never told you I couldn't play. That's an integral part of a hustle." Bella was very intimately acquainted with hustling, so she figured, share the wealth of knowledge. "In fact, I told you I was going to kick your ass."

"Did you?" Jacob asked, picking Bella's ball out of the hole and handing it to her. It was bright yellow, because Jacob had insisted it matched her dress. His was green, to match his shirt.

Bella nodded. "I am a keeper of promises, first and foremost." Then she had to stifle a sudden wave of hysteria, because that statement was the biggest whopper she'd ever told, and she had managed to convince Mike Newton that Jessica Stanley was a virgin. Right before she took two-hundred thousand dollars from him. Then again, Bella Swan hadn't made Mike – or any of the others – any promises. That was all the other girls, not her. Bella could keep promises she made to Jacob. Just so long as she made them carefully.

Jacob shook his head, lining up yet another shot. "How did you get so good at this, anyway?" he asked, looking up at her from where he was bent over his club.

Bella shrugged, imagining all the hours Lauren Mallory and Tyler Crowley had spent on the golf course, her hair so ridiculously blond and Tyler's hands on her hips to "adjust her stance".

"God-given talent," she said instead.

By the time they reached the fifteenth hole, Bella was winning by sixteen strokes.

"Is this reflecting poorly on my masculinity?" Jacob asked.

Bella smiled as she angled the ball directly toward the hole. "On the contrary," she said, "you're taking this entirely too well. Toxic masculinity seems to have missed you entirely."

"Happens when you have two older sisters."

The yellow ball fell into the hole and Bella bent at the knees to retrieve it, so as to avoid giving the entire place a show. "Well, tell them I'm grateful," she said, straightening up.

Jacob laughed, and the sound of it was like thunder rumbling through his chest. "Will do," he said. He managed to sink his shot and Bella applauded. "Yes, yes, I've finally gotten the hang of it."

"Only took you almost the entire course," Bella noted, as he grabbed the ball and led her over to the next hole. His hand was at the small of her back, hovering, almost touching, but she could feel the warmth of it through her cardigan and dress. A small shiver ran down her spine.

"Are you cold?" he asked.

Bella glanced over at him, her face flushed. He was smiling at her, again, and she had to stop looking at him before she did something stupid, like ask him to come home with her or jump on him. She let her hair fall forward, obscuring her cheeks. "Fine, thanks," she said. Jacob took the ball from her hand and set it up for her on the tee. She made her first putt, eager to wander off and find her ball to get out of his sphere of warmth and smiles and sunshine.

Bella needed to calm down. She was in way over her head. What she'd told Billy was exactly right, he was boyfriend material. Kind and funny and so stinking hot she wanted to cry a little. She'd also been right when she said she wasn't girlfriend material, though. Bella was the opposite of girlfriend material. She felt herself wanting to spend even more time with Jacob, despite the fact that less than two weeks from now, she'd be thousands of miles away attempting to snare the most eligible non-bachelor in the world. Hell, Emmett was already in research mode. He was hiding it from her, but she knew. Bella would be bad at this job if she let herself get attached to a boy back home, no matter how cute and nice he was.

_Get through the date, Bella, _she thought. If she made it through the date she could have the fun memory of it to take with her as she maneuvered through this next job. And when they failed, maybe Jacob would be done with school, and she could see him again. Maybe, just maybe, she could have casual dates with him until she and Emmett retired. Then she could think about boyfriend material. For now, she needed to focus on her game.

"Was that a freakin' hole-in-one?!" Jacob called as she walked toward the ball right as it rolled into the hole.

Bella laughed. "No, it was a _fuckin_ hole-in-one," she responded. "Big difference."

"There is no difference at all. We said the same thing," Jacob said, setting up his putt.

Bella meandered back over to Jacob, leaning close as he lined up the shot. "Please tell me," she whispered, "that you know the difference between freaking and fucking."

He shot the ball over a stability fence into a pond.

Bella giggled loudly, and Jacob stood to tower over her as she dissolved into a hysterical fit. He ducked his head down, eyes narrowing onto hers. "Keep laughing," he said, "and you'll never find out."

Well, that worked.

*

"I cannot believe you're eating that," Jacob said, glaring distastefully at her plate.

"Are you kidding me?" Bella said, selecting the perfect cheese-coated chip from the pile. "Mini-Putt nachos are a rare delicacy."

Jacob raised an eyebrow. "Can you even classify those as nachos? I guarantee that isn't really cheese."

"Says the man eating Mini-Putt ultimate pizza!" She gestured to his slice. "I would bet money that those olives are just deformed, moldy mushrooms. Possibly even beetles." She sipped at her soda – surprisingly enough, the Putt had Dr. Pepper – and made a face at Jacob's pizza.

"Should we maybe have gotten dinner somewhere else?" Jacob asked, grinning.

Bella thought about it. "Couldn't have hurt," she admitted, before the both of them began laughing. "No, really," she amended, when they both calmed down, "this is nice. I'm having a really good time." She smiled shyly at him, suddenly nervous.

He smiled back. "Sometimes it really does pay to listen to your landlord when it comes to men."

Bella shook her head. "Absolutely not. This was the most isolated of incidents."

"Yeah?" he said, his smile widening into something more mischievous. He leaned toward her, his face inches from her own. His eyes flicked down once, a millisecond's glance at her lips. "Isolate this," he breathed softly, before closing the distance between them.

His lips were warm and full, and it only took her the space of a breath before she decided to kiss him back. She didn't allow herself to think about being in over her head. She didn't wonder what it meant for her or her job or her brother or anything. She just kissed Jacob Black over their disgusting Mini-Putt meals, allowing her stomach to flip and her face to flush and his hands to reach up and hold her face, impossibly warm against her already heated cheeks, and her hands to rest on his broad chest, where she could feel his heart hammer against his ribs.

She pulled away first, leveling him with a stare, brown meeting brown. "'Isolate this'?" she asked.

Jacob rolled his eyes. Oh good, she was already rubbing off on him. "Shut up," he said, pulling her back towards him, and Bella stopped thinking altogether.

*

**A/N: Let me know your thoughts! Don't hate me! I'm sorry! **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Alright, this one's for Taryn, for successfully bullying me into finishing this chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight but if I did I'd donate to the Quileute Tribe unlike _some_ authors.**

*****

Bella's three days were up.

They were both in heavy research mode, Bella hunched over her laptop, and Emmett constantly on the phone setting up contacts. Though Emmett and Bella were the dream team, the dynamic duo, the ass that got the grass, there were other people involved in jobs. Shifty people with burner phones and access codes. Bella could get these herself, but it saved so much time to buy them; time Bella needed to research in the places that people kept hidden. Her favorite access guy, Eric, was currently haggling over the cost of a sixteen-year-old's school schedule with Emmett, who was finagling the lowest price he could.

"B could get it for me, you know," he said. "She's just itching to bust into yet another private school."

Bella laughed, loudly enough for Eric to hear her. Bella and Emmett, just like everyone they worked with, used fake names when making deals. They were B and E, or Breaking and Entering, and once Eric had called her Bree, and Emmett, Ent. Literally, like the tree people in _Lord of the Rings_. There were a few people they could call upon to do this side work, but they preferred Eric. He was discreet, friendly, efficient, and above all completely stealthy. His work was better and faster than Bella's, because she'd spent all that time getting random degrees and working in the field. His name was a mystery; Eric stood for Electronic Rebellion Is Constant, which had very nearly cost him the job the first time Bella had heard it. Emmett thought it was awesome, Bella was concerned he might be fourteen.

He'd easily proven himself as a contender, however. Eric was the best. No one ever caught him, and he got the best stuff quickly and quietly. Like the schedule they needed.

"Alright, hang on," Emmett said, and held the phone out for Bella, who glanced up from her laptop with a dazed look. She_ had_ to invest in some blue-light glasses. "He wants to talk to you."

Bella snagged the phone, pressing it between her ear and shoulder, and continued to read the file on her screen. "Go for Bree," she said, voice a little faint with distraction.

"How bad do you need this schedule?" Eric's voice was the same as always, soft and slow, as though he were carefully planning each word he said.

Bella took in another paragraph as she thought, mentally filing away information on the adoption proceedings of one Rosalie Hale, Head of Marketing for Cullen Pharmaceuticals. "Plan A versus Plan B," she told him. It was impossible to lie to Eric. He could just tell. It was like a superpower.

Eric let out a breathy chuckle. Bella couldn't remember ever having heard him laugh. "I know who this kid is, Bree," he said. "You guys have officially lost it."

Bella smiled, glancing at the page and learning that Rosalie's favorite cocktail was a mojito. She was going to end up with so much bullshit info on this chick it was insane. But she was one of the three children of the CEO of Cullen Pharma, which meant she was imperative research, a non-negotiable necessity. "Get this," she told Eric, "you're about to learn my real name."

"Fuck off."

"Starting to see how much I want that schedule?" she asked, positive that Eric could hear the smirk in her voice.

"He's not gonna make you go in there without a face, is he?"

"Eric, babe, would I lie to you?" Rosalie Hale likes to walk her dog in Central Park at 11:00 AM on Sundays.

There was a scoffing sound on the other end of the line. "I guess not." There was silence, and then a sigh. "Tell Emmett to add five to his offer and you'll have the schedule."

Bella beamed. "Making sweet, sweet love to you through the phone, Eric."

"Noted and appreciated."

Bella laughed, gesturing for Emmett to take the phone. He raised his eyebrows at her, a question. She held up one hand, fingers splayed, and mouthed_ five_ at him. Emmett smiled like the cat that ate the canary, and headed for the kitchen to close with Eric. He re-emerged five minutes later; their special phone already locked away in their safe.

"Cannot believe you told Eric we're going in as ourselves."

"I cannot believe," Bella retorted, "that Rosalie Hale has thirty-seven pairs of Monolo Blahniks and apparently a Carrie Bradshaw complex."

Emmett sighed and settled in next to her on the couch. "Wasn't very professional."

"Neither is going in faceless."

Emmett shrugged. She had him, and he knew it.

"Besides that," she said, "he was going to find out anyway. Alice Cullen's school schedule? Eric is not an idiot. He is the opposite of an idiot."

Emmett gave her the shut-up-and-do-what-I-say look. "Check the Eric inbox, will ya? Should be there by now."

She did as she was asked, happy to give her brain a break from the Rosalie Hale extravaganza. When the file opened, after several moments spent decrypting it, she gave it a quick scan. Bella turned to Emmett, keeping her face passive. She let him sweat for just a moment, before her grin cracked her face.

"She's signed up."

Emmett jumped off the couch, pumping his fist in victory, before dancing around the living room. "Alexa!" he screamed, "Play 'We Are the Champions'!"

"Oh, _fuck_ no," Bella said, picking up her phone and immediately cutting the music. "While we're on the subject, I'm not sure how I feel about you applying for and then getting a job for me while I was gone." She shook her head. "The fact that you convinced them a chat-interview was better…"

"It _is_ for a Computer Science and Technology teaching position." Emmett grinned smugly. "Why meet in person when the computer could do it for us?"

Bella smiled in spite of herself. He was devious and a genius, that was for sure. "Video chat was an option," she said. "Also, you didn't know I'd say yes!" She brandished her phone at him, menacingly. "Don't try to get out of owing me, sir. Because you do. Big time."

Emmett sank down onto the couch, shoving his feet onto Bella's lap, knocking her computer onto the cushion beside her. "One:" he said, raising a finger to illustrate his point, "they could see my typing speed with the text."

"Which means it was slower than my actual typing speed."

"Irrelevant," he said, waving his hand before lifting two fingers. "Two: you were going to say yes. You like a challenge, and you've had a crush on Edward Cullen since you were nineteen when he was on the cover of _GQ_ for that Man of the Year shit he won."

Bella's eyes narrowed. She hated that he was right.

"Having a crush on a celebrity and agreeing to work him over are two completely different things."

"Yeah," said Emmett, smirking, "but you'd do both." He got up and walked out of the room, presumably to do his own research in his room.

Bella sighed and switched over from Rosalie Hale to Alice Cullen on her screen.

She was sixteen, a student at a prestigious New York private school, had a 4.2 GPA, enjoyed Art, Biology, and Fashion Design. The school actually offered fuckin Fashion Design as an elective. God, she hated rich people. Her boyfriend, Jasper Whitlock, was one grade ahead of her, a lacrosse star, for fucks sake. She was the President of the Fashion Club, the Horticultural Society, and Jasper was the team captain of the Speech and Debate team. Based on their supposed inseparability, she assumed that since Alice had opted into her seminar, Jasper would be there as well. She'd dug up any criminal activity for each of them, and they both had a record of underage drinking, but those had taken quite a lot of sifting to find. She supposed their families had taken care to keep their records clean. Unsurprising, really, that rich teenagers had passable fake IDs.

She spent another hour building up her Cullen knowledge, skipping from Alice to Esme Cullen, the matriarch, before deciding to skip Carlisle and Edward in favor of class prep.

Emmett had secured her a trimester-long seminar at the prep school Alice attended. She would be teaching Computer Science and Technology, going over all of the basic programs the kids could expect to use in their chosen fields, and ending with basic coding. She wanted to start with security, her expertise according to Emmett and "her" interview with the school. She felt a little sorry for these kids. It wasn't that she was unqualified, it was just that she had never taught anything and preferred people who already understood computers. Fortunately for her, most of these kids were probably at least competent, being from the generation who'd grown up never experiencing dial-up.

These sad sacks were on a year-round schedule, which meant she was in for this until August. Apparently, the school would then evaluate her success and determine future classes. Which Bella could not give less of a shit about, unless they hadn't finished the job or failed out by then. Bella had promised herself that if she wasn't in with Edward by then, they were bailing whether Emmett liked it or not.

On the miniscule chance she _was_ somehow with Edward fucking Cullen by August, she assumed she'd have to keep up the charade. Considering they were going in faceless, she couldn't see this happening. She thought of all of Edward's girlfriends she'd seen in magazines. Tall, blonde, bleached or not, giant boobs, small butts, and dressed head to toe in designer. Now Bella had no beef with that type of woman, they were hot and they knew it and she could appreciate that. The problem Bella was having was the fact that she looked nothing like that, and she wasn't even allowed to disguise herself like that for this job.

Bella Swan was pretty. She knew that. She'd gotten enough male attention while out of her costumes to be aware that there was some appeal to her. Her hair, she knew, was a big draw. Long, full, and shiny, she took excellent care of her tresses, and she knew that in the right light, there was a reddish tint that offset her pale skin. She only wore makeup for special occasions, and her skin was clear and soft as a thank you. Her eyes were large enough to draw attention if she swiped on some mascara, but they weren't owlish. She was petite and well-proportioned but a tad bottom-heavy. She knew how to dress herself and her hygiene was impeccable. Bella Swan was any man's catch.

Edward Cullen wasn't any man. He was_ the_ man. He was the heir to a prescription empire with a business degree from Harvard, while managing to look like a fucking statue. He'd been on the cover of _Men's Fitness_ last year for his supplement regimen and workout routine, and Bella had seen the spread of him without a shirt. It was ludicrous. He was slim but defined, and he looked like he could probably toss her across a room despite being more compact than most of those superhero-type guys. He wouldn't even need that stupid body with his facial shenanigans. He had green eyes that she just _knew_ were set to bedroom eyes as default. And that fucker had the audacity to have auburn hair, making him a genetic marvel. He was annoyingly hot, and she had the utmost confidence in this being a flaming shit-show.

She sighed, laying her forehead down on the keyboard.

She felt the couch shift beside her and turned her face toward Emmett as he sat.

"Ready for a break?" he asked.

Bella smiled, her cheek stretching to press even more buttons on her keyboard. "Yeah," she said, "and I know just what I'm going to do."

*

Luckily, Jake opened the door instead of Billy. She wasn't looking forward to his obvious smug glee. Even luckier, Jake opened the door after what had clearly been some kind of workout, and he was in athletic shorts and a sleeveless shirt, sweaty and all kinds of hot, and Bella had to tighten her grip on the six-pack in her hands to keep them off of the six pack in front of her.

"Hey," he said, grinning down at her.

Bella, after a moment of awkward gawking, managed to smile back. "Hi."

He grinned wider at her obvious ogling. "Did you need something?"

Yeah, she needed to do some kegels.

She shook her head, just slightly. "I need a date to the courtyard," she said, holding up the beers. "It was an insane day at work."

"Let me change," Jacob said, gesturing for her to come inside. She did so, glancing around cautiously. Jacob laughed at her. "He isn't home. He's playing cards with the Clearwaters in 2B." He headed down the hall toward the bathroom and Bella popped the beer onto the counter before hopping up next to it, her legs dangling. Jacob popped his head out of the bathroom to yell at her. "He did say you owed him one and he told you so!"

"I owe him nothing and I never disputed him!" she retorted. She heard his laughter mixed with the sounds of the water as it turned on in the shower.

She played on her phone for a minute before she got bored and decided to snoop. It was second-nature, after all. The layout was the same as her apartment, kitchen to the left of the front door, breakfast bar overlooking the living room. Small hallway to the right that led to the bedrooms and bathroom. Billy's apartment, however, was painted a sage green as opposed to her blue, and he'd had the kitchen remodeled to have better access for him in his chair: lower cabinets and counters, and the bar had a ramp leading to a platform that would make Billy level with it to eat there. There was a couch, a low coffee table that looked as though it had been hewn from a single slab of wood, and a television on a stand of drawers. She resisted the urge to rifle through them. There were black-and-white photos of the desert on the walls in frames, along with photos of people and places that clearly held a lot of sentiment.

She meandered through the living room, looking at the pictures. Billy with a young Jake in his lap, two dark-haired girls flanking him and a beautiful woman who looked remarkably familiar standing behind him. Bella realized she was so familiar because she looked like Jacob; it must be his mother. More pictures of Jacob and his sisters, pictures of his mother, and in the corner of one of the shelves… an urn. It was etched: _Sarah Black, 1962-2002. Loving Wife and Mother_.

Well, that explained one thing: Billy's seemingly unending singleness. She remembered when Eleanor died, Charlie wouldn't even look at another woman. Till the day he died, Charlie had only ever loved Eleanor. Sure, at one point, he'd loved Renee, she assumed, but Eleanor was it for him. It made her happy to think that they were on floats somewhere, drinking Modelos and just… existing in the same plane.

Bella had always thought that Charlie and Billy would have been great friends. It made sense to her that Billy would be the same way.

"That's my mom," came a voice from behind her and she suddenly realized that the sound of the water had stopped. She wondered when that had happened. She also wondered when she'd gotten so carelessly unobservant. It wasn't usually her M.O.

She turned to see Jacob, hair wet from the shower, in a t shirt and another pair of athletic shorts. She could feel the heat from his body radiating out to her, almost like a physical touch.

Bella nodded in response to his statement. "I figured," she said, letting her eyes drift back to the urn. There were pictures beside it, of their family at a sunny beach. "How old were you?" she asked.

"Six."

"I was twelve," Bella said. "And then eighteen."

Jacob was silent for a moment, and she could feel that they were both holding their breath, neither wanting to say anything stupid like "I'm sorry" or "that's terrible". Everyone always said something like that. Everyone except people who've lost parents.

It was a tense moment, where Bella kept her eyes on the urn and away from Jacob, hesitant to see whatever he was feeling. Grief for his own mother? For hers? Sadness for her, for himself, or – God forbid – pity? She didn't care to find out, at any rate. When the moment passed, she managed a weak smile and turned to face him.

"So," she hedged, "wanna get shit-faced?"

Jacob's face went from shocked to delighted in a split second. He boomed out a laugh. "You better have more than a six pack if you're planning to liquor me up."

Bella rolled her eyes and grabbed the drinks off the counter as she made her way out of the apartment. "You are like the opposite of a cheap date," she said, shooting a look at Jacob over her shoulder that was designed to make him follow.

Jacob, whom she'd accurately guessed was smart and capable, took the hint and snagged his keys off a peg by the door as he headed out behind her. As he was locking up, he shot her another of those ridiculous sunshine smiles. "But I'm worth it."

Bella's tongue involuntarily pressed against her cheek, a habit she'd picked up from Charlie, who used to do it whenever she'd made some audacious comment. Her eyes narrowed. "Prove it," she said, her chin tilting up in challenge.

Jacob's brows flew up his forehead, looking down at her in glee, that grin threatening to break the bottom half of his face clean off. "If you were going to proposition me, Bella, you should have done it while we were still inside."

Bella's cheeks flushed, but she maintained her composure, managing to roll her eyes. "Believe me, Jacob Black," she said, taking a step closer, close enough that when he took a sharp breath in their chests almost collided, "when I proposition you, you won't have to ask if I did." She smiled up at him as he swallowed thickly, before turning and heading for the elevator. She pressed the button and turned to see him exactly where she'd left him. "You coming?" she asked.

He mumbled something under his breath and then followed her, stepping into the elevator swiftly right as the doors opened.

"That's what you get for that comment at the golf course." Bella hit the button for the ground floor and beamed at him.

Jacob's jaw dropped. "_You_ started it at the golf course." He pointed his finger accusingly.

Bella pointed hers right back. "_You_ started it today!"

Jacob was already shaking his head halfway through her statement. "No. No way, come on asking me to 'prove it'?" He made exaggerated air quotes. "There is no other way I could have taken that; this one's on you."

Bella scoffed. "Ever heard of sparkling conversation and good company?" she asked. "You can prove it in so many ways, Jacob." She batted her lashes up at him and let the air into her words, making them labored and breathy, a trick she'd developed when she was marking Diego Marquez, who'd liked dirty talk way too much for comfort.

Jacob let out what she could only consider a growl. "You're doing it _again_," he said, right as the elevator doors creaked open.

Bella made her way across the lobby backwards, eyes on Jacob as he trailed after her. "Doing what?" she asked, infusing her voice with wonder, eyes wide and smiling ever so slightly. It was the first thing she'd ever learned to act: innocent. She stopped at the vending machine outside the leasing office, yanking a crumpled dollar out of the back pocket of her shorts.

The lobby was sparsely decorated, but functional. A few deep armchairs for potential renters, a potted palm, and a coffee table with pamphlets for the activities and businesses around the area – these were the only things in the room, along with the vending machine that Billy kept well stocked with her favorite thing: Sour Patch Kids. The leasing office, where Billy worked, was far more colorful than the lobby. It was covered in artwork and photographs and beadwork and woodwork and Bella knew for a fact that Jacob had whittled the wolf carving by the door, because Billy had told her at least three times. It looked like a hunting lodge in there.

Bella smiled fondly through the window at the office, remembering when she and Emmett had first moved in. They'd just lost Charlie's house, and Billy had been so kind and sympathetic. They'd already been working on her first job, then. The one and only time she'd marked someone in Arizona. She was doing her online courses in the dead of night to keep from waking the mark, and she'd managed to come back to Emmett at least once a week under the guise of getting a manicure. She'd been nervous in the office, afraid that her complete lack of credit and Emmett's low score would lead to yet another rejection and Emmett sleeping in the truck. But Billy had taken one quick glance at the application, then at Bella's anxiety-riddled features, and asked when they could move in.

She'd been willing to go to the mat for him ever since.

Bella pressed the most worn buttons on the machine, F-7, and watched as her candy dropped down. She bent down to retrieve it, fumbling the package just a little bit, leaving her ass in the air to mess with Jake a little more. She didn't really fully understand what happened to her around him, but this ridiculous flirting thing was way too much fun for her to care that she was acting like a crazy floozy. Charlie would definitely call any girl waving her ass in the air that, anyway. All she knew was that when she was around Jacob, everything felt lighter, and the harsh realities of the world she lived in and the reasons she occupied it became sort of fuzzy.

She held up her prize for Jacob to see, and he gestured for her to keep it moving.

Bella wandered with Jacob away from the machine to the door along the wall that led to the courtyard in the center of the complex. There were picnic tables, and huge, shady trees, and a pool. It was like an oasis in the middle of the desert, and in the deepening twilight of the day, it was exactly the break she needed from her research and fucking lesson planning. God, she was going to kill Emmett for this. At the very least, it was better than Plan B, which involved paparazzi and clubs and all the shit she hated that would be really unconvincing if she was being herself, like she was supposed to.

They arrived at her favorite picnic table, under the boughs of a large oak tree that benefitted greatly from the sprinklers that Billy kept running for at least three hours a day. (No one in the complex understood water conservation, and to be frank, didn't care. The trees were worth it.) Bella ignored the bench and opted to sit directly on the table, yanking a beer out of the box and using the edge of the table to pop the cap off.

"You know that's a twist-off, right?" Jake asked.

Bella took a long pull off the drink before responding. "My way's much cooler, though."

Jacob sat on the bench beside her legs where they dangled off the table, grabbing his own drink and twisting the cap off exaggeratedly. "Not that I mind in the slightest," he said, "but what prompted this mini-date?" He took his own sip, and Bella enjoyed watching the way his neck muscles moved. What the fuck was _wrong_ with her?

She took another sip and tore open the Sour Patch Kids, offering one to Jacob. "Long, long day at work. I'm in the research stage on my latest gig, and the place is much bigger than my usual jobs."

"That's good though, right?" Jacob stole another of her candies as she failed to slap his hand away.

Bella sighed. "I mean, yeah, I guess so." Her hand made its way into her hair of its own accord. "It's just way more work than I'm used to."

"What do you even really do?" Jacob asked. "You glossed over a lot the other day."

Bella knew he was going to ask, but she still hated that she had to lie. Well, omit, anyway. "I'm a security consultant."

"Yes, that you did mention." Jacob raised a brow at her, clearly angling for more.

She avoided immediately answering by following up a sip of her beer with a Sour Patch Kid. "Companies hire me to make sure their networks and tech are all secure and protected." This was, ironically, true. Bella Swan had to have something to put on her tax forms, and she and Emmett both used this business as their legit work. She had some pretty stellar references from the places she'd set up, which is probably what actually got her that teaching gig in New York. "I make it impenetrable to hackers and the like so that they can have secure data and streamline their technical elements, from websites to payment terminals." This was only half-true, as hackers like Eric could definitely bust her shit wide open. Run-of-the-mill kids and guys with coding classes under their belts to edit their blogs, though, they were out of luck.

Jacob nodded along. "I understand the basic principle, and I'm sure that I'd understand approximately half the finer details due to engineering crossover."

Bella giggled, taking another sip and finishing off her beer. She reached for another one before responding, slapping it against the table edge to pop the cap. "I won't bore you with the code and the extensive research into the surrounding area, including network stability, location of servers, knowing exactly what the company does down to the studs, and the absolute tedium of testing and retesting everything I do." She'd actually grown quite bored during most of her consulting gigs. Unlike her primary job, it was very easy to secure the network and tech for a company. However, it also paid far less than her primary job.

Jacob clinked his bottle against hers. "To whatever company has you pulling out your hair and seeking refuge with me."

Bella leaned her arms onto her knees, bringing their faces level. "Thanks for helping me with my break," she said. "I appreciate it. You're very distracting."

Jacob smiled and she could feel it again, the sunlight warming up her heart. "Happy to help," he said. "Although, there are way better methods of distraction."

Bella rolled her eyes before leaning away from him, laying back on the table. "Tell me more about your cars," she said. "That oughta numb my brain just fine."

He laughed, but obliged, and they spent a lovely hour drinking and laughing and throwing candy at each other, trying in vain to catch them in their mouths.

*

When Jacob dropped her off at her door he showed her one of the many ways in which he could "prove it," which she enjoyed a little too much before she remembered that she still had mounds of work to do, so she said goodnight and headed back into the apartment.

Emmett was on the couch, her laptop opened in front of her, the Rosalie Hale file open. "Hey, Bells," he said, not bothering to look up. He scrolled a bit, over her transcripts. "Seems like you and her will have a lot to talk about." Emmett gestured to the screen. "She went to Duke, too."

Bella nodded. "I mean, I have no idea what campus life was like and her degree isn't related to mine, but at least I can happily tell her 'Go Blue Devils!' without lying." She plopped down next to Emmett, laying her head back on the couch and mentally preparing herself to get back to work.

"Hey," Emmett said, prompting Bella to crack one eye open and peek at him. "Not going soft on me, are you? Second time you've seen that kid in a week, which is a record double the size of your last record."

"My last record is zero, Em," Bella pointed out to him. "And no, I'm not _going soft_. What are you, a walking crime movie cliché?"

Emmett held up his hands in surrender. "Just making sure it's not going to affect your job performance."

Bella sighed deeply, feeling the air through her lungs and holding it for a few seconds. "Emmett," she said on an exhale. "Do you remember our first job?"

"Of course," Emmett said. "But Bells, this isn't the same – "

"Yes it is." Bella cut him off, refusing to discuss it further. "_Nothing _gets in the way for me. Not anymore."

Emmett shrugged. "Okay."

Bella closed her eyes again and took several deep breaths. She could do this. She was finally done with school, so it wasn't like she was sneaking class time anymore; she could devote herself fully to the task. Despite being pretty sure it wasn't going to work, she still planned to do her best to complete the job, she wasn't going to sabotage them. Jacob didn't have to be a factor. When they left, she'd give him the same line they gave to everyone. They were leaving for the job, and they'd be out of touch. It wouldn't be like that first time. It wouldn't. Bella wouldn't get hurt like that again, not over some guy she literally just met. If anything, she'd idealized him too much in the years that Billy spent attempting to hook them up, and losing that would hurt more than losing Jake himself, although that would be a bitch.

And… maybe she didn't have to lose him. They'd fail the job, and she would get to come back, and have her dates and her fun with Jacob until she and Emmett could finally stop working, and then who knew what would happen between them. She just had to hold out until August.

Emmett's hand made its way into hers, and she felt him squeeze.

"I don't want you to get hurt," he said softly.

Bella resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Then we should never have started," she stated plainly. "But since we did, let's do the job right. Okay?"

"Yes, ma'am."

*

**A/N: Comments make the chapters come fasters. ...I'll see myself out. **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Alright, listen up, this is the way it is. I'm gonna update CFG soon, I promise. I just reread the entire thing to catch myself up, and I'm excited. But this story right here has completely fucked up all my best laid plans for one story at a time. So, you get both. Have at them. **

**Disclaimer: Stephenie, if you're reading this, take notes. I don't own your characters but I clearly love them more.**

*

The apartment was covered in suitcases full of "essentials" that Bella and Emmett needed for New York. The siblings had drastically different opinions on essentials, however, meaning that Bella had clothing, her makeup collection, three wigs, and her entire desktop – in its assorted pieces, along with various sundries and tchotchkes she couldn't get in New York. Emmett, on the other hand, had basically his entire bedroom, down to his pillow. Bella was planning on buying anything they needed when they arrived. Emmett planned to hole up in the apartment doing surveillance and eating.

The school was providing an apartment in a building owned by the board of trustees for Bella (and Emmett) to live in. Several of the other teachers lived in the building, abusing the rent control and the trustees' hospitality. It was a damn sight cheaper than anything else that close to the school, which is why Bella said yes to it. It was that or keep home base in Queens and commute into Manhattan every morning, which sounded like hell. It was also convenient, because the school had decided that part of Bella's work there would be giving the academy the Swan Securities treatment. Total overhaul of the entire network, and some extra protection so that next time some unsavory types wanted to boost a school schedule, it'd be a bit more challenging. She couldn't keep Eric out, she knew that, but other people were boned if they wanted to break in. This was all part of her evaluation, the headmistress (yes, she really was titled that, fuckin' rich people), Mrs. Greene, had assured her. It was in no way a cheap grab for free service.

Having her own place on a job was kind of weird. Usually Bella ended up living with her marks relatively quickly. She was always someone "new to town" crashing in a hotel or AirBnB, making her that much more available to the men she was luring. Everyone loved being needed. This time would probably be incredibly different.

Mostly because she was still pretty positive they were going to fail.

Bella wasn't even bummed out by the idea, either. Why be worried about doing a bad job when it meant being home when Jacob was home? Did she have a big, fat crush on Edward Cullen? Duh. Did she have an equal-sized crush on her landlord's son that she'd been desperately trying to avoid catching feelings for and had not only been on two dates with already but had casually hung out with several times over the last week and a half, making him not only a detriment to her work, but a giant liability to her well-being? Fucking yes.

Really, although she knew it was crass and insensitive, she was beginning to see this as a win-win situation, in which she got a man out of it either way. Of course, the success route involved stealing and lying and general fuckery, as well as ditching out back to Phoenix when she was done, at which point she actually… could never see Jacob again. Which was less fun, actually, but at the bare minimum it probably involved her having sex with Edward Cullen. Considering her Jacob obsession had the potential for massive fading once he wasn't so goddamn _close_ to her, the idea of taking down Edward Cullen was appealing as all hell.

On the failure route, she could come home and date Jake until their next job, and so on until they eventually retired, whenever that may be. Really, a win-win.

So why did it feel like a loss?

Probably because they were leaving tomorrow and Bella had yet to tie up any of her loose ends, which now included Jacob. This was really unlike her, to let it go so long before cutting ties and going off-grid. Of course, they weren't actually going off-grid this time. Hell, Emmett had given the school her actual cell number, and they were using the company's contact info and records for their resumes. They were au naturel, naked as babies, Bella Marie Swan and Emmett Michael McCarty, born 1994 and 1991, respectively, graduates of a boring high school in Phoenix and shareholders and operators of Swan Securities Inc.

Technically… there was nothing stopping her from keeping in contact with Jacob. It didn't have to be romantic, anyway. He calmed her. It would be like anti-anxiety medication without the benefit of being on drugs. If he helped her out, so what? Right? And if Jacob saw her in some magazine on Edward Cullen's arm, well, they weren't together anyway. It wasn't like he could get upset.

It was with that in mind that Bella made her way down to the Blacks' apartment, customary alcohol in hand as tribute to the landlord. They knew she was leaving, of course, and taking Emmett, but she hadn't told them it was going to be so soon. She'd just reveled in her days, swimming laps in the pool alongside Jacob, watching movies on the Blacks' extremely superior couch, and neglecting her research. She'd told Emmett she didn't want to be too rehearsed, because she wasn't supposed to know any of that shit anyway. Emmett had seen directly through that bullshit, but she couldn't be bothered to care. She was having too much fun.

Bella rapped twice on the door with the bottom of the whiskey bottle, which made a dull _thunk_ against the wood. She waited approximately a millisecond before the door swung open forcefully and Jacob's arm made its way around her waist, bringing her inside and slamming the door shut with one motion. Before she could even react, the bottle left her hands, and Jacob's lips were on hers, feverish and ardent, and she found herself unable to catch her breath. Her hands went to his hair, his held her waist, and suddenly her feet weren't on the ground.

Jacob moved away only enough that their lips were still touching, but not pushing, not kissing, just ghosting along hers. "Billy has left the building."

"Please don't talk about your dad while your hand inches closer and closer to my ass."

He laughed, setting her back on her feet before taking her hands and starting to drag her down the hall towards the bedrooms. She resisted a little, getting Jacob to stop and face her.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Do you not want… oh God, Bella, I'm so sorry, let me – "

Bella waved her hands around. "No, no, no! That's not it, Jacob, I – believe me, I _want_… I just… can't."

Jacob's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Bella heaved a deep sigh, suddenly feeling guilty. "Well, I came down here, uh, to tell you something."

Jacob shrugged. "Oh. Okay then. What's up?"

"I'm leaving."

"I know."

"Tomorrow."

"Oh." Jacob said it on an exhale, and it seemed as though he deflated a bit, like whatever was holding him up left with his breath. "Why didn't you tell me?"

And there it was: her opportunity. All she had to do was stay cool, act like this was no big deal, and keep it light. If she could do that, everything would be fine. She'd leave for New York, no one would get hurt, she'd come home in a few months and everything would be fine. But first, she had to cover her ass.

"Well," she started, "it isn't like you didn't know it was coming. I told you I'm a terrible prospect." She ran her hand through her hair, intending the gesture to be casual, but she probably came off nervous. "And this job Emmett and I are on is a big client, but I'm also going to teach a seminar at a private school out there. It's going to be a lot of work, and I'm going to be super out of touch." She shrugged herself now, desperate to keep things light. "I'm not trying to tie myself down to someone three thousand miles away. I didn't think it was a big deal."

Jacob's eyes narrowed. "Not a big deal? Bella, we've spent nearly every day together for the past two weeks. Look, I like you, a l- "

"Stop." Bella's voice was firm. "Don't say it. I can't deal with that _and_ with all the shit I have to do for the next few months. This is why I don't do boyfriends."

"I'm not trying to be your boyfriend, Bella," Jacob said, bending to keep their eyes level with each other. "I'm just trying to tell you I care, and I want to at least… I don't know, _try?_"

Bella sighed once more, her eyes rolling to stare at the popcorn ceiling, the building's only flaw in her eyes. "Look, Jake, it's been fun, really, I've had a good time, but I don't think that – "

"Oh, bullshit, Bella."

Her eyes snapped back down to meet his. "Excuse me?"

"I said, bullshit. You can pretend to yourself and think that's protecting anyone, but it's bullshit." He reached out, and his hand trailed from her elbow to her wrist, where he took hold of her hand, warmth in every cell he touched. "You can't tell me you feel nothing. Tell me that, and I'll drop it. I won't contact you while you're away, and I'll leave you alone until you ask for me. But I don't want to give up, Bella. Not on something that feels so good."

An out. He'd given her an out. She could take it, tell him she didn't feel a thing, and she'd be as free as a bird, able to focus and not think about Jacob Black while she should be working.

"Look, we can still talk to each other," she said. "I just don't think it's a good idea to be, I don't know, whatever this is." She gestured between them, indicating what she meant.

"That's not an answer, Bella. Can you tell me you feel nothing?"

If there was one thing that Bella Swan had done in her life to deserve a first-class ticket to the burning pits of Hell, it was what she did next.

She stayed silent.

She should have lied. She should have told him it meant nothing, she felt nothing. But she didn't.

Bella Swan did the most immeasurably stupid thing she could think of. She kissed him. And it was the same as always, sunshine and warmth and an ache deep in her chest for the way things could be.

God, she was so fucked.

*

Things had completely devolved off track from there.

They agreed that they probably shouldn't have sex. It was impulsive of them, and impulse, as Romeo and Juliet would both tell you, is bad. They also agreed they weren't dating. He wasn't Bella's boyfriend; she wasn't Jacob's girlfriend. Keeping things casual was easier and more likely to keep them both afloat. They were free to date whomever they wanted. (Bella had insisted on this one, while Jacob claimed he didn't need it. Bella had snorted at that, completely disbelieving.)

But, unlike what Bella had initially wanted, she wasn't going to just be able to talk to Jacob whenever she needed to calm down and de-stress. They weren't dating, but they weren't friends. They agreed to keep the same romantic vibe they had now going via text or calls.

And _that_ was where Bella knew she had fucked up. It was going to confuse the shit out of her and pull focus and she had just wanted to keep things fucking light, but this was heavy.

It was a little funny, in another perspective, that Bella's idea of heavy was flirty texts and nice phone calls. But, since all she'd ever really known was faking it and feeling nothing, it felt heavier than any of the other things she'd ever done. There was no way she could tell Emmett what she'd just agreed to. He would _not_ approve, and he'd probably accuse her of going "soft" again, which she really hated.

But when she'd kissed him… She still thought that distance would be good for them both, that this deep itch that he seemed to scratch would fade with it, but when he kissed her she could barely think. She was in way over her head, and the only thing tying her to the ground was the job. She needed to focus on the job.

Bella Swan had a fucking work ethic, goddammit, and Jacob Black was not about to ruin it. She would just have to figure out how to stay unaffected.

Bella was back at her apartment, about to unlock the door, when her phone pinged a new message. She checked it and sighed. Another directive from Mrs. Greene. She'd gotten a million of these little reminders since she'd been back, and she knew Emmett had been taking them for her in the time between taking the job and Bella being home. This one was simple: _No open toed shoes,_ it read. _Just remembered that one._

This woman seemed nervous and more than a little flighty to Bella. It was eleven PM in New York, and she was texting Bella about appropriate footwear. How she'd managed to become the headmistress of an incredibly prestigious New York private academy was a mystery to Bella.

She was nice enough, however, that Bella didn't want to be unnecessarily mean to her.

_Thanks_, she responded, _I'll be sure to keep those toes closed._

She finally wrestled the door open to find Emmett arranging all the suitcases by the door for easy removal tomorrow. He'd set up the rent payment with Billy through August, and Bella had already left him with the spare key to take care of her babies. The only thing left for them to do was leave.

"Ready?" she asked.

Emmett glanced up at her before returning to his task. "Yeah," he said. "You?"

Bella heaved another sigh. "Just got back from Jacob's."

"You took care of it?" Emmett's voice was nonchalant, as though he knew the answer to the question but felt obligated to ask anyway. He couldn't possibly know that she'd just broken the rules, because there wasn't really a precedent for it, unless he counted their first job, before the rules were even really set.

"Yeah," Bella said, maneuvering around him toward the bathroom. "It won't be a problem."

And it wouldn't, because she wasn't going to let it be. Bella was a goddamn badass, and she could handle having it all. Work/life balance was about to be her bitch. She could keep flirting with Jacob Black and do her best to sway Edward Cullen at the same damn time, because she was a professional at this.

She had the business cards to prove it.

*

The sun had barely peeked its ass over the horizon when Bella and Emmett made their way toward the elevator to say their goodbyes to Billy and Jacob. They both knew that there was a chance this would be the last time they ever saw them. If their plan worked, Bella and Emmett would make a brief stop here, to pack up and break their lease with Billy, before disappearing. Jacob might not even be there for that.

Bella was comforted by the fact that she didn't really see that happening. More likely they'd come home when the summer ended, Emmett licking his wounds, and Bella ready for round two with Jacob.

They were dressed for the plane, Em in sweats and Bella in leggings and a Duke sweatshirt. (Just in case. Who knew what people would see?) They were dragging all of their crap, and Emmett had called them an Uber to avoid the truck costing them a thousand dollars in airport storage. Their carry-ons were expertly packed with plane entertainment, and they were as ready as they'd ever be. Bella rechecked their flight information while they took the elevator down to Billy's.

He answered the door in pajamas, with Jacob right behind him in a similar state.

"Hey," Emmett said, reaching out to shake Billy's hand. "Thanks again for being so flexible."

"And for taking care of my plants!" Bella interjected.

Billy chortled. "Not a problem at all, kids. You know I'll always be there for you two."

It hurt Bella's chest when he said that. The miniscule chance of success was weighing on her, again, and she needed it to stop. So she smiled at him and kissed his cheek, before moving around his chair to Jacob, leaving Emmett and Billy to go over last minute details.

"Hi," she said, smiling up at him.

"Hi," he said, his usually wide grin at only half of its megawatt capacity. "Got everything you need?"

Bella shook her purse, letting things jingle around. "Yep."

"Headphones?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Charger?" Another nod. "Snack?" She pulled out her granola bars. "Tickets?" She rolled her eyes. "Boarding pass?"

"Dude, I'm a grown woman who flies everywhere she goes. I've got it." Bella smirked up at him, her brows raised in challenge, daring him to ask for another.

"Alright," he said, his hands up in surrender. "Just one last thing you need, then."

"Oh yeah?" Bella asked. "What's that?"

"You need to isolate this," he said, and before Bella could burst out laughing, he leaned down and kissed her. A kiss that felt like goodbye. Warmth and honey and sunlight and feeling_ right_ and somehow still sad and just a little cold. His lips were harder than usual, like he was holding himself in, like he was keeping himself in check. Like he was showing her how hard this would be. When they stepped away from each other he pulled her into a hug.

"Still so lame," she muttered, but the words had no bite. He breathed out a laugh, and she felt his lips on the top of her head.

She sighed and disentangled herself from him, taking his hands in hers. "Bye, Jake."

He squeezed her hands, like he didn't want to let go. "Bye, Bella."

When she turned to leave, Billy was beaming at her. "Oh, hush, you."

He held up his hands. "I didn't say anything!"

"You're thinking it loud enough for me to hear," she pointed out, giving him another kiss on the cheek and his own hug. Emmett reached behind her and did some sort of bro handshake with Jacob.

"See ya, man," he said.

"Later, Emmett," Jacob replied.

They stood at the door, staring at each other for a moment, before Billy broke the silence.

"You take care, and don't hesitate to call, understand?"

"Yes, sir," Emmett said, before giving Billy a small salute. "C'mon Bella, the car's downstairs."

She nodded, waving sadly to Billy and Jake, who waved back as she walked away, facing them until she knew she was likely to trip. She turned away at the elevator, where Emmett was waiting with their bags. When they were safely enclosed, he gave her an accusatory eyebrow.

"What?"

Emmett shrugged. "Thought you said you took care of that." He busied himself with checking his carry-on, and Bella couldn't see his face well enough to tell if he was angry with her or not. Bella had never lied to Emmett before. This would be her first time ever even attempting it.

She decided on nonchalance. Bella laughed. "Looked pretty final, right? He might even be crying." She was really banking on Emmett believing her on this one. If he didn't, well, he'd be watching her like a hawk, and she didn't need that if she really was going to keep talking to Jacob. He wouldn't like it. If he did, she'd have a hell of a lot more leeway with her privacy. She was a pretty good actress, she knew that. It came with the job. But she needed to convince Emmett, who had taught her everything she knew.

Emmett just stared at her. "Whatever, Bella." The doors opened and he started pulling the bags through the lobby. "I just hope you know what you're doing. We can't afford missteps on this one." Bella followed him, staying silent. She wasn't sure if he'd believed her or not. She hoped he had, but she was betting he didn't. At least not fully.

She hoped she knew what she was doing, too.

Her phone chimed, and she looked at the incoming message.

_Gonna miss you. _

She bit her lip, staring at the screen for another second.

Then she turned it off and followed Emmett to the car.

*

The flight was boring, except for Emmett outrageously flirting with the stewardess. (And the steward. The team at Swan Securities Incorporated didn't discriminate.) Bella managed to sleep for most of it, which was helping her stick to her plan of trying to keep her head away from Phoenix and Jake and whether or not he'd made it back to school yet. Emmett nudged her awake fifteen minutes before landing so she could put on her game face.

Time to work.

When they made it out of the airport, laden down with luggage, they hailed a cab and gave them the address of the used car lot that Alistair had provided. If you needed a reliable, nondescript vehicle in any city in the continental United States or Honolulu, he was the man to talk to. When the cab driver dropped them off, Bella caught him staring at her ass, so she leaned into the window.

"What do I owe you?"

"Thirteen-fifty." He was leering now, which was overwhelmingly creepy.

Bella painstakingly counted out exact change and handed it to him.

"No tip?" he asked.

Bella rolled her eyes and leaned out of the window. "The ass ogle was your tip. Normally I'd have to let Gigantor over there deck you for it."

He sped away, looking nervous as Bella laughed and flipped him the bird.

"Wow, you're already a New York pro," Emmett commented.

Bella started leading all their shit toward the dealership. "Let's just get a fuckin car," she said. "I'm not dealing with cabs."

They entered the shop, which was dingy and clearly low-brow just like every place Alistair dealt from. After a quick transaction with some guy named Trent, they sped out of the dealership in a black 2010 Ford Focus, which had to be the most absolutely average looking car anyone could think of. Alistair had set it all up nicely; they'd only given the names he'd provided and a wad of cash and they were out the door.

Emmett let Bella pick the music, and they were in the gridlock, moving surely if not swiftly toward their new place.

"One last run-down before anyone can hear us?" he asked.

Another great thing about Alistair's cars: total security. If their NSA agent was listening in right now he was shit out of luck, because they were only getting garbled noise. Bella had done the same thing to their Alexa when Emmett insisted on getting one, but this was different. She'd completely jailbroken the Alexa to one hundred percent disable active listening, but Alistair's cars had some disruption thrown in with the ultra-quiet engines and lowlight modes, for stealth.

Bella heaved a deep sigh. "Alright."

"Today we set up."

"Yeah," she said. "Home security, burners in case we need to make contact with any of our special friends, finding the best place to keep the safe, reinforcing the doors and windows."

Emmett nodded. "Tomorrow?"

"I do class prep while you make sure our accounts are in order and orchestrate all evacuation protocols."

"Good," he said, smiling. "Monday?"

"Fuck off."

"That's not on the agenda," Emmett pointed out, and Bella flipped him the bird too, right as he pulled in to their parking garage.

"Monday, I teach," she said, huffing and crossing her arms and Emmett laughed at her.

He pulled up to the security desk and rolled the window down. "Afternoon," he said to the woman behind the plexi-glass, who looked bored out of her mind.

"Name?" she asked.

"Emmett McCarty and Bella Swan from Swan Securities Inc. We're moving into 5C." He handed over both their IDs, and Bella leaned forward so the woman could get a good look at both of them.

She checked the computer, tapping away, before sliding open a drawer and handing Emmett two cards with magnetic strips on the back, along with their IDs. "You two can swipe these at the terminal next time," she said. "Welcome to the building."

"Thanks," Emmett quickly read her nametag, "Coleen."

She raised her brows in an approximation of a smile, never looking away from the screen as she waved. Bella would have bet money she was playing Minesweeper or something on it.

"She and I are going to end up best friends," Emmett said.

Bella scoffed. "What, like that's a challenge for you?"

Emmett laughed before pulling into the spot marked 5C. They started lugging all of their shit toward the admittedly much nicer than home elevator, Bella with two duffels and dragging two suitcases and her carry on, and Emmett loaded down with enough luggage that Bella had to direct him where to step, because two trips is for wusses who can't lift.

They'd taken the furnished option when the board offered it, which Bella was excited about. Not having to shop for a couch in Manhattan was a treat in and of itself. Bella dropped some of her crap in the hallway and unlocked the door with the key they'd mailed her last week.

The entire apartment smelled like lavender. Literally, she walked in the door and was assaulted with it. It was easy to see why, though, there were fresh bouquets of the stuff in every room and two in the kitchen. Other than the onslaught of purple, Bella found the place quite nice. There was a small entryway with a console table for keys and wallets and a coatrack and pegs for bags or hats. Beyond that was an open floorplan living area, the kitchen along the right-side wall with a counter that overlooked the living room, and a small hallway leading off the left to the bedrooms and bathroom. There was a sliding glass door directly across from where she stood, which she assumed led to a balcony.

The entire place was done in muted earth tones, with greens and browns as the only deeper colors. The couch was deep brown with tan throws, the rug on the hardwood was a light beige, the kitchen cabinets a deep mahogany with white marble countertops and stainless appliances. Coffee tables and end tables were dark wood, with glass tops, and there was a kitschy green lamp atop one end table near a deep plush green armchair. A television was mounted along the wall, and the lavender vases were on nearly every available surface.

Bella held the door open wider for Emmett, who grunted as he entered and immediately dropped all of the luggage directly on the floor of the entry. Bella rolled her eyes and wandered into the first bedroom. It was roomy for New York, she supposed, with a sliding closet door on the left wall and a chest of drawers on the right. The bed sat in the center on the back wall beneath a window and between two matching nightstands, covered in a lilac bedspread. Wow, this decorator really dug purple. Purple was cool anyhow, Bella figured, throwing her duffel on the bed.

There was a door to the side of the closet, and she opened it to find the bathroom. Private entrance – neat. There was another door she'd seen in the hall that led into it, and it came equipped with a shower, a double vanity, nice counters, fluffy towels. It was all very nice, very clean. Rich people wanted their kids' teachers well taken care of. Probably encouraged them to give good grades. It sucked for her students, she supposed, that she couldn't be bought. She had most of her lessons ready and they were not going to be easy. Bella really hoped that all of that private education and tutoring had prepared them for the onslaught of her devious teaching whims.

She wandered back into the living room to find Emmett unpacking all of their equipment. Cameras, microphones, the travel safe, tools, gadgets, you name it, it was on the table.

"Emmett?" she asked.

He glanced up. "Yeah?"

Bella's arms crossed over her waist, and she heaved a sigh. "You really wanna do this?"

He grinned. "Bella, we're about to become legends. We're gonna take down the kind of dipshits that let my mo – " he broke off, shaking his head, " – the kind of assholes who hurt people. Like we always do. The rich get richer and we're here to capitalize on it." He stood, and reached out, taking Bella's hand from her waist and pulling her into his side for a hug. "You and me, right?" He squeezed tighter, and Bella squeaked. "That's what matters."

Bella returned the hug, nodding. He was right. It had always been Bella and Emmett. Where he was, she was, and their team was all that mattered.

So why did it feel like she wasn't here at all? Like she was miles away and someone else entirely? Why did Bella feel like she wasn't in this team anymore?

She wasn't about to let it happen. Bella needed Emmett more than she needed either of the two men her mind volleyed around like a bad game of Pong. Jacob wanted Bella? Well, he was about to get her. Unavailable, unreachable, untouchable Bella Swan. Professional con artist and really shitty girlfriend. He wanted to keep up the romance, he could try. But Bella was going to do whatever it took to make Emmett happy. The jobs made Emmett happy. So Bella was going to forget that far-away feeling and focus._ This_ was who she was, and that girl back in Phoenix was just a vacation.

"Let's get started, kiddo," Emmett said, releasing her and gesturing toward the various accoutrement on the table. "Wanna be done early so we can unpack."

"Yeah, sure, Em," Bella said, sitting on the floor to organize the gadgets to her liking.

And she ignored the vibration of her phone in her pocket whenever it went off.

Bella Swan would not be the weak link on this gig. She would not be distracted. She would not be somewhere else.

Bella Swan was going to take down Edward motherfucking Cullen.

*

**A/N: Alright everyone (six people) you know what to do! Review and I'll give you internet cookies. They taste like bad code. **


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